


My Darling Clementine

by misura



Category: The Secret Life of Walter Mitty (2013)
Genre: Feelings Realization, Getting Together, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 19:55:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21634276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: One short trip, two clementine cakes and three people in love (not necessarily in that order).
Relationships: Cheryl Melhoff/Walter Mitty/Sean O'Connell
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	My Darling Clementine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [youjik33](https://archiveofourown.org/users/youjik33/gifts).



"Sorry what?" Walter asked, because, seriously, _sorry, what?_.

Sean shrugged a bit. "Sorry, man. But you know how it is. Life's gone, you know, but life - life goes on."

"That's deep," Walter said, while thinking to himself, _sorry, what?_ with perhaps a hint of _no, sorry, what, that's not_ deep _, sorry, that's just simple_ facts _, and facts aren't deep_.

"Not really, no," Sean said. "Just the facts, plain and simple."

"Are you reading my mind right now?" Walter wanted to ask, but didn't, because Todd had been right: less was good. Less was better. Instead he said, "Yeah, I guess. So who - what's this guy's name, anyway?"

"Matt something-or-other," Sean said, his mind-reading powers clearly having fizzed out.

"Oh right. So you don't know his actual name." Walter tried not to sound relieved. "Yet."

"Good ole Matty," Sean said. "But anyway, how've you been?"

"Great," Walter said. "Just great. Me and Cheryl - it's all great, you know?"

"I think I'm getting the general idea, yes," Sean said.

Cheryl didn't seem to understand the problem. Which felt fair, given that Walter didn't understand the problem himself, but he'd been sort of hoping all the same.

Of course, there were lots of other people he could ask, but he felt this depressing certainty - call it a 'hunch', that he already knew what they were going to tell him, because they'd told him before.

"I mean, so he got a new job. That's great, right?" she said.

"Yeah," Walter said. "Real great."

She pouted at him a bit, but in a way that made it clear that actually, he was the one pouting and she was just showing him what he looked like if he'd been her. Or something. "You're jealous. That's so cute."

"No, it's not," Walter said.

Cheryl stopped pouting and grimaced. "No. You're right. It's not, is it? So what are you going to do?"

"Well, I promised Mom I'd swing by this afternoon, and after that, I'm picking up Rich and we're going to swing by that new pizza place - which reminds me, toppings?"

"Yeah," Cheryl said. "I mean, what's a pizza without toppings, right? Kind of dry and boring."

"No, I meant - " Walter chuckled a bit. "But anyway, those're my plans."

"And Sean? No offense, but that new guy - Matt or something? He sounds like a creep. I think that, as his friend, you should do something. And hey, you got a new job, too, right? Maybe you should mention you know Sean - all casual-like. They might want to hire him, and then the two of you can get back together and it'll be yay, reunion of the dream team."

"I don't think two people can technically be called a 'team'. More, like, a duo."

"Reunion of the dynamic duo, then, there you go. You're welcome," Cheryl said.

"I don't think it'd be a good match," Walter said. "But thank you. Thanks for trying to make me feel - thanks. For that. You didn't have to do that."

"Kind of wanted to, though," Cheryl said. "A lot."

He ended up picking random toppings for the pizzas, which went better than he'd expected. Walter liked that. Jorgen told him that in Greenland, they'd run a survey and seven out of eight people had picked anchovies as their favorite topping. Jorgen had been the eighth, and still slightly bitter about it.

Walter wrote him back that he sympathized, but that anchovies wasn't so bad as toppings went.

Jorgen asked him if he'd ended up getting his guy, and Walter stared at the screen of his laptop for a long time and then he closed it, because he didn't know how to answer that, or even if he wanted to.

The problem with Sean had always been that he travelled. A lot. Walter didn't think it would be all right for him to try and track Sean again, not when he and Cheryl were talking about maybe moving in together, or at least Walter spending the night one time.

He still hadn't managed to fix her refrigerator, which felt like the basic requirement to assume that they'd moved on to having the kind of relationship where he'd spend the night at her place and it wouldn't be kind of a big deal, so.

"So I think I'm taking a trip to Aix-en-Provence this weekend," Cheryl mentioned over lunch.

"Cool," Walter said. "Aix-en-Provence. That's in France, right?"

Cheryl grimaced. "I know, not terribly exotic or exciting or anything. But Sean sent me some pictures - well, negatives, but Hernando turned them into pictures for me, so, you know. It looks really beautiful."

"Yeah, no, I'm sure it'll be great," Walter said. "Sorry, what?"

"Sean," Cheryl said.

"Yeah, no, I heard you," Walter said. "Cool. Great. It's just - you and Sean, I didn't know you guys had met."

"Oh, we haven't. Yet. I mean, in person. But he writes," Cheryl said. "Talks about you a lot. So."

"So. That's cool. You should - " Walter swallowed. "I'm sure you'll have fun."

"Yeah," Cheryl said.

About a dozen people e-mailed him to let him know they thought he should get himself a ticket to France, pronto, which Walter thought would be an over-reaction. He liked Sean; he liked Cheryl. There was no conflict there, nothing to get his panties all in a twist.

_'You wear lady's panties? You animal! ;) ;) ;)'_ Miguel wrote, so then Walter had to write back that no, it was only an expression.

So then he didn't have time to buy a plane ticket for France anymore, even if he'd wanted to go, which he didn't.

"Mom baked a cake yesterday," Odessa said. She had a chocolate cigarette in her mouth and was pretending to smoke it any time she remembered it was there.

She claimed it was to stay in touch with the spirit and essence of Rizzo.

"Two," Mom said. "Two cakes. And they're both gone now."

"Wow. Starting a bakery or something?" Walter grinned. He'd come here to be distracted from thinking about Cheryl, and Sean, and Cheryl and Sean. It was working pretty well.

"I took one to share with the rest of the cast," Odessa said, inhaling a bit of chocolate-y air. "Big hit."

"What the cake or the show?" Walter asked. "Just kidding. I've seen the show. It's really great."

"Sean was there, too, you know," Mom said. "Seemed to think you were going to be as well."

"He shot some pictures of me as Rizzo," Odessa said.

"I think you were the one he really wanted to talk to, so I gave him the other cake," Mom said. "Such a nice man, Sean. Really knows how to make a woman feel appreciated."

"Hey," Walter said.

"What? I'm a woman," Mom said. "You can't expect me to pass judgment on the whole what-he'd-be-like-as-a-boyfriend thing. That's not my area of expertise. I'll just say this: men who know how to properly appreciate a Clementine cake are rare. You should get them while you can."

Turned out there were definitely a lot more than eight people living in France.

"Aix-en-Provence?" Walter tried, and someone started talking at him excitedly until they ran out of breath so he could add, "Do you speak English? English? Maybe?"

Another five minutes of being gestured and speeched at later, he decided they probably didn't.

"Glad you could make it," Sean said. "Cake? It's your mom's."

It was three bicycle rides, one haycart hitchhike and two train rides later. Walter had tried to get himself a skateboard but he'd neglected to pack any cool toys, and it turned out French kids weren't very interested in ipads.

"I - " he said. Somehow, haycart notwithstanding, it all felt too easy.

Sean smiled at him kindly. "It's good cake. Clementine."

"The best," Cheryl said.

They were on a balcony, in a hotel that hosted lots of other guests. Walter had shown Sean's picture to someone, and they'd given him directions, and now here he was.

"When the sun sets, the light's going to hit that mountain ridge over there," Sean said, pointing. He'd set up his camera and everything. "It's really something."

Walter accepted the slice of cake. It had been wrapped in plain brown paper. There weren't any clues on it, some shooting schedule that'd let him know where to go next. He was here. That was all. The future was in his hands, and it tasted delicious.

"I - you got a walkman? I used to have a walkman, back when," Walter said.

Sean watched the mountain ridge. "Suppose I could get one if I had to. Why?"

"I'm going to make you a mix tape," Walter said.

Sean looked at him.

"Both of you," Walter said. "Because - because. Is that cool?"

Over Sean's shoulder, he saw the sunlight hit the mountain ridge and realized that Sean had been right. It was really something.


End file.
